Shards of My Heart (The Forgotten Ones Book 2)

by Nellie K Neves

  Heaven help us all, Finley has a plan.

  Chapter 23

  Best Actor. Best picture. Best supporting actor. Not bad for a film shot on little money in a nothing town in the boondocks of nowhere. Not to mention three other nominations not won. As my first movie, it’s giving me unrealistic views about where my career is headed.

  Jay escorts me to the after party, but I’m quickly forgotten as droves of women want to give him their condolences for not receiving Best Director. He’ll lap it all up like a puppy. A ride home was never written into the contract. I’m sure I’ll grab a taxi.

  I draw in a breath that sounds more like a sigh and head for the bar. A few strangers congratulate me along the way. I’m sure they’re famous, but unless they’ve been in a movie with Zane, my repertoire is limited.

  “What can I get you?” the woman behind the counter asks.

  “Diet Coke,” I say. “With nothing else in it.”

  She nods slowly like I’m an idiot. I am, at least a little. This is the sort of thing Jay was supposed to stop me from doing. The glass is chilled, frosty on the outside. I can’t help but use my finger to draw a tiny heart. I bite my lip and draw it back inside my mouth, clenching until it starts to burn. I let it go and turn back to the rest of the room.

  For months now, I’ve been criticizing the movies for their unrealistic tendencies. Snow falling at the right moment. A dog bringing a couple together like he understands what they need. The crowd parting to reunite two long lost lovers. It’s not possible. It’s hardly even probable.

  But it happens.

  Not the snow.

  Or the dog.

  But the crowd shifts, breaking down the center until a chiseled tunnel appears and at the end of it—Zane.

  His lips are parted, as if he’s as surprised as I am. One hand is shoved in a pocket and the other is holding a drink. From the color I’d wager it’s the same as a mine. His brow collapses in on itself as he surveys my outfit, head to toe. Twenty feet. That’s the physical distance between us. But emotional distance? That feels like a trip to the moon could be faster.

  Zane turns to fade into the crowd, but my plan doesn’t work if he gets away. I ditch my drink at the bar, capture the length of my dress, and jog after him in my spindly high heels. I wobble once more before I rip off my shoes and carry them so I can move faster. Cinderella had mad skills to escape in glass slippers.

  He’s near the door, arm out, reaching to push it back. Lights twinkle, the music surges, chatter and laughter surround me, but my focus is him.

  “Zane, wait!” I call. The few guests standing near the door whip around to stare at me, barefooted, heels in one hand, clutch in the other. But Zane freezes in place, hand on the door.

  “Please,” I say, “at least let me say hi.”

  Moving at the same speed as Oliver when I corner him for bath time, Zane turns, gaze stuck to the floor until he’s facing me. It’s only then that he lets me see his eyes.

  “Hi, Finley,” he says devoid of all emotion.

  “Hi, Zane.”

  “You look good.” He looks away, likely because it makes him ache as much as seeing him is killing me. “It’s a nice dress.”

  “I’ve never been to one of these things.” I take a few steps closer because ten feet is too far apart to have a conversation. “I heard it was pretty fancy.”

  That sneaky glint pops into his eyes. “Yeah, people go all out like it’s important or something.”

  “Glorified prom.”

  “Better party favors though.”

  “There’s a gift bag?”

  “Don’t leave without the gift bag.”

  I’m close enough to smell his cologne. My eyes fall shut as it wraps around me like his arms used to.

  “You came with Jay,” Zane says. “Are you a thing now? You one of us, playing the game, strategic moves and all that, or was it just to hurt me?”

  “He was my ride,” I tell him. “Last I saw him he had a white wine in one hand and a redhead in the other. Hard to say which will hold his attention longest.”

  “I heard you’re working at locally on the lot.”

  “For two movies, yes. Nothing as hard as what I did for you.”

  “You deserved to win tonight. I was surprised you didn’t.”

  None of this is what I want to talk about.

  “I saw you at the courthouse.” When he moves to avoid me, I shift to stay in his path. “Why’d you come?”

  “I had a feeling when I saw the news that you’d show up. I wanted to see what you’d do.” Zane shakes his head as if this is all too much. “I never expected that, the video, the pictures, your testimony. I’ve never seen you so brave.”

  “I’ve done some growing since you left.”

  He doesn’t like that phrase, ‘since you left’. It burrows up under his skin until his fists clench, and he looks like he might try to claw the offending emotions out.

  “Well, it was great seeing you,” he lies and shoves the door open to exit the party.

  I won’t give in so easily.

  “Zane!” My feet slap against the linoleum as I dash after him. “Zane, please, let me talk to you.”

  He stops a way off down the hallway that traces the perimeter of the auditorium. The hum of the party no longer impedes our words, but I feel the need to shout if he’s not going to listen to me.

  “Why are you running from me?” I ask from where I’ve stopped. “Why are you so eager to leave?”

  Without turning, Zane sighs and says, “Because looking at you makes me want to drink or get wasted. I want to turn off everything I’m feeling and fade away. My sponsor tells me to run from these situations, so that’s what I’m doing. Because I think there might be enough whiskey in that open bar to make me forget I ever heard the name Finley.”

  “I saw Shards of Glass.”

  It’s the worst thing I can say, and yet the only thing I can think of. He turns to face me, eyes wide, and his heart breaking.

  “Why? Why would you watch that when I told you not to? I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t like it, but I wish I’d watched it earlier. Everything would have been different.”

  He nods, but not for understanding. Frustration glows in his eyes as he faces me. “Different, but for the wrong reasons. I’ve never needed your pity. I needed you.”

  “And I wasn’t there, like everyone else in your life, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Zane.”

  My apologies don’t register, not at first. He’s stuck on that movie and what it did to him.

  “I basically wrote it, you know? They gave me their script, but I made the changes. I made it mine.”

  His face pinches together and every wrinkle cuts into my heart. He’s fluid, shifting as if he might break into a run but looking back to me like he can’t leave.

  “How’s Oliver?” he asks even though it’s painful. Maybe he meant it as a deflection, but it’s an honest question, as if it’s been burning in his mind for months. “Has he seen the city yet?”

  “Not too much of it,” I say. “I work so much, he’s with Mona most of the time.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t bring her tonight.”

  “I was protecting you famous people from her exuberant love,” I say with a smile.

  “Oh yeah,” Zane laughs to himself, “I remember. It’s loud. A little jarring.”

  “I miss you,” I blurt the words out before I can stop myself. “Every day I miss you.”

  “Don’t do this.” All the teasing disappears with one plea. “Please Finn, if you ever cared about me, don’t do this to me.”

  “If I could go back, I’d change everything,” I push on despite his request. “If I’d known…”

  “But that’s it, isn’t it?” Emotion burns in his eyes, rims red with what he’s holding back. “It’s only because you know now.”

  “What does that matter?” My volume rises with my desperation.

 
“Because I’m nothing but broken glass to you. You can see it now. All of it! My abuse, my neglect! All of it!”

  “And I can love it all too,” I tell him. “You kept so much from me, and then wondered why I was guarded. I could feel you keeping secrets, my only problem was I didn’t know which ones.”

  “And what about what you said? Shattered can’t ever be used again? That’s what I am! That’s what he made me!” Zane’s palms go to the sides of his head as if he’s trying to block the memories from getting through. I grasp his wrists to keep him from hurting himself, and he crumbles at my touch.

  “I’ll never be enough for you, Finn. I’m too broken. I need you in my life, but we can’t be together.” His palms slide over my cheeks, eyes locked on my lips. “Why do you have to look so good? Why’d you wear that perfume? I’m weak. You know I’m weak.”

  Heavy with heartache, his hands drag over my neck, down my shoulders, every inch excruciating for the both of us because we were never meant to be apart.

  “You saw me,” I whisper as I ease closer, allowing his grip to shift to the satin clinging to my hips. “Before anyone else. You saw me. You recognized my pain, just like I did yours. Even if I didn’t understand it.”

  Zane nods but it’s not much, as if his strength has drained from his body by my proximity alone.

  “I’ve missed you, Finn,” he says in a voice that’s not much more than air gliding over my skin. “But nothing’s changed.”

  “Everything’s changed,” I tell him as I slip from his arms. His body tugs after me, as if we’re tethered together, unable to separate ever again. “Mona dragged me to this gallery a couple weeks ago.” I unclip my clutch and wipe at my tears with the heel of my palm. “She’s been obsessed with art and fashion and movies since we got here, and I almost didn’t go, but you know how she gets.” I sniffle and dig around in my clutch for the small white box. “There was this artist. He’s amazing. He takes glass, and he shatters it until it’s not much more than dust. I mean, totally destroys it.”

  Zane wipes at his eyes and clears his throat as he watches me rummage. My fingers lock around the box, and I set my clutch on the ground. I pinch the sides of the lid, but I’m not ready for him to see it.

  “He uses all those broken bits, and he builds these sculptures from the rubble. They’re magnificent. He had a four-foot Eiffel Tower, all glittering and perfect down to the minute details of hand railings and every single step. There was this one of a dog holding a bowl.”

  Zane hangs off every word, desperate to know why this one artist changes everything.

  “My favorite was the one of a couple,” I press my lips together and look up at him through my lashes, “kissing. You could feel the love in every broken chip.”

  “What are you saying?” Zane asks, but I think he already knows.

  “I found this in the gift shop.” I extend the box to him and set it in his hands. “I bought it thinking that if I ever had a moment with you, it would explain my thoughts perfectly.”

  His fingers catch the lid and pull it free, then loop around the ribbon strung through the figure. A single heart, built from shards of broken blue glass.

  “It’s not what it once was, I was right about that part. It’ll never be the same again. But this, this is even better.” I catch his free hand and squeeze, before I say, “You once told me, fractured glass is still beautiful, and I’m telling you, shattered glass can still love.”

  His grin betrays his relief, as if I’ve spoken to all his fears and banished them in an instant. Despite the tear that rolls down his cheek, Zane gives a weak grin. “Is this a Christmas ornament?”

  “I poured my heart out to you, and that’s what you’re asking?”

  “Well you didn’t pour your heart out exactly, you boxed it up,” he says as he tips the box to show me my so-called heart. He closes the lid and sets the box by my clutch.

  “Well, pouring it out would have made a mess, and I have to give this dress back.”

  “You should never give this dress back,” Zane says as his hands find my hips again. “You should wear this dress every day.”

  “I can’t afford to keep it.”

  “So, let your boyfriend buy it for you. He knows the designer.”

  “I told you, I’m not with Jay.”

  “I’m not talking about Jay.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  His eyes drop once more to my lips, and I have to admit I’m doing the same thing.

  “Do you love me?” he asks. The pressure at my hips increases as he tightens the space between us.

  “I never stopped,” I say, too aware of how plump my lips feel. “But I love you more now. I love all of you. I love you completely. And I’ll love you more tomorrow.”

  “I tried to stop loving you,” Zane says, twisting his head and leaning into me. “I was desperate to be free of you. Nothing worked.”

  His breath brushes my cheek. Pain this exquisite is hard to bear.

  “I’m glad about that.” My chest rises against his. His fingers slip over the bare skin of my back. My breath hitches. Zane’s smile broadens at the thought.

  “Are you gonna marry me, Finn?”

  “Just as soon as you ask.”

  “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  “Why? Are you busy today?”

  His eyes lock with mine, reading me, searching me, needing every part of me, and I’m willing to give him everything, no walls, no deflection, just me.

  “Can I kiss you, Finley?” His palm rubs along my jaw, and I’m back in Ridgedale, standing outside my garage once more. I can hear the crickets, feel the evening breeze, but this time I won’t deny him. This time I’ll say what I should have said all along.

  “As long as you promise not to stop.”

  He falls into me, lips on mine, hand slipping beneath the crisscross straps that cover my back. It’s more than we’ve ever had because there’s nothing between us, no secrets, no hidden past, no alter personalities, only Zane and Finley. Zane deepens the kiss, pulling emotion from me that I never imagined existed, as if he’s showing me colors for the first time, or shades I’ve never seen. Such a grand finale for a lonely little girl once called Sarah.

  He breaks the kiss first but keeps us close like always. “You know, we might have to stop when the party gets out, or it’ll get real awkward in this hallway.”

  “I don’t care.” I pull him back to my lips, and kiss him again, hoping to wipe his playful thoughts from his mind.

  No such luck.

  “I might get hungry,” he says as I leave a trail of kisses over his jaw. “Or thirsty. I haven’t had anything today. I was kinda dying because the girl I love came here with a total jer—”

  “Shut up, Zane,” I whisper against his mouth, and he’s all too happy to oblige, wrapping his arms around me until I can hardly breathe. I hope he’s not playing about marriage, or the future, or any of it because I can hardly wait to start a life with him.

  “Wait,” the thought pops into my head like a lightning bolt. I press my palms against his shoulder to keep space there. “The woman you brought with you tonight. We shouldn’t be doing this. I mean. Obviously, you have to break up with her, but we shouldn’t be—”

  Zane presses a kiss to my lips to stop my racing train of thought before he says, “That’s my therapist. Sad day when Zane Alexander can’t find a date and has to bring his shrink.” He sees my reservations and smiles. “She’s already left. Made sure I wasn’t headed for the bar and took off.”

  “So, you’re not with anyone?”

  “I’m with you,” he says.

  “That’s good because I’m with you, and Oliver,” I pause for a second before I add, “and his pet dragon.”

  “Dragon?”

  “Long story.”

  “As long as it ends in Happily Ever After, I don’t care how long it is.”

  “There is no such thing as happily ever after,” I say taking his tux by the lapels. “But if you�
��re up for sticking it out no matter what, I can go for that.”

  “I love you, Finley Sullivan,” Zane whispers before he leans close to kiss me again.

  “Always and forever,” I tell him.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Zane’s hand strays over the swollen width of my stomach as I wash dishes in our new place in Malibu. “Eight more weeks,” he whispers against my neck. “Then Oliver is a big brother.”

  “Eight more weeks before I get to push a watermelon out of my—”

  Zane’s finger presses against my lips with a sneaky grin. “Shhh, you’ll scare her.”

  “You don’t know it’s a girl,” I roll my eyes. “You wanted to be surprised.”

  “Don’t be mad at mommy,” Zane says to my stomach. “She’s just nervous. You’ll be nice to her, won’t you?”

  “Don’t listen to daddy,” I say looking down at my belly, “he’s the one who did this to me.”

  That brings on his deep laughter because it’s true. I wasn’t sure I wanted another child, but Zane insisted, begged even, and a year after we married, I relented.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting into,” I tell him, playfully jamming my pudgy pregnancy finger into his collarbone. “Diapers, no sleep, exhaustion, you’re in for a world of hurt, Mr. Alexander.”

  He catches my finger, only to wrap my arms around his neck and pull me as close as my belly will allow. “And she’ll be a part of me and a part of you, and we’ll love her,” he kisses my nose, “and sell her baby photos to the highest bidder in the press, right?”

  I know he’s joking because Oliver has been well guarded since we became a family. Still, I smack him with my dishtowel to drive the point home.

  “Why are you so certain anyway?” I ask him as I dry the counter. “You’ve been claiming girl for a couple weeks now.”

  He shrugs, but he can’t hide the smile. “I don’t know. You want to put some money on it?”

  My eyes widen. “You peeked! Didn’t you?”

  Zane catches me in his arms again. “Fine, yes. For all my bluster about being surprised, I had to know. We’re having a girl.”